


a dream that won’t come true

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Grease (1978), Grease: Live
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Get Together, Rizzo has no time for soulmate related social norms and conventions, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, sticks by Grease:Live canon for a bit then takes a sharp left turn into another fandom, surprise crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10016906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: A person's soulmate was supposed to be their perfect match. Rizzo couldn't for the life of her see how Sandy 'Goody Two-Shoes' Young was supposed to be hers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the concept that people have the first words their soulmate will ever speak to them written somewhere on their body. You've probably seen variations on the trope before...
> 
> I've been sitting on this story for a while, but decided to finally post it.

** a dream that won’t come true  **

It was the first day of school and everything seemed to be going to plan, right up until Frenchy showed up with the new girl.

Rizzo had never seen her before, and Rizzo had seen everyone who went to Rydell High at some point or another – certainly everyone around about her own age – which meant that the girl had probably just transferred into Rydell. Rizzo looked her over with a critical eye: the new girl was dressed demurely in a long pastel-blue skirt, matching pastel-blue sweater, and a demure blouse; she obviously didn’t dye her hair or wear make-up; and she was looking at Rizzo and the other Pink Ladies with a shy, hopeful smile that said she was just as pure and wholesome as she looked.

Clearly not a fit for the Pink Ladies, this one, but then, Frenchy always was more tender-hearted than she ought to be. Still, Rizzo would give the new girl a chance... even if it was only to prove that the she wasn’t about to fit in with a girl gang like the Pink Ladies.

“This here is Sandy Young,” Frenchy announced, adding in an aside to the new girl, “Sit down, honey. This is Marty, and that’s Jan and Rizzo. Sandy just moved here from Salt Lake City, Utah,” Frenchy added, to Rizzo and the others.

“Oh, Salt Lake, huh? That means you’re one of those...” Rizzo tried to think of the correct word, failed, and waited for the new girl to supply the word she was looking for.

But the new girl’s eyes went inexplicably round at Rizzo’s words, as though Rizzo had said something unbelievable. Her next statement made everything clear.

“You’re my _soulmate!_ ” the new girl breathed – the same words that were written in beautiful copperplate on Rizzo’s arm. She sounded shocked, and absolutely thrilled, as though all her dreams had come true.

Rizzo could have clocked her one for just blurting that out in front of the others. As it was, the other Pink Ladies were nudging each other and grinning, eyeing the unfolding drama with unabashed interest.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Rizzo, struck by the sheer unfairness of the universe, and so far profoundly unimpressed by the girl that destiny had apparently chosen for her. Soulmates were supposed to be the other half of a person’s soul, the one being who matched that person perfectly, challenging and comforting them in equal measures.

Rizzo could not, for the life of her, see how this naive little goody-two-shoes was supposed to challenge her in anything. It figured that somehow ‘destiny’ had gotten her soulmate all wrong.

Rizzo wasn’t even going to get started on the fact that her soulmate was, apparently, a _girl_. While it happened occasionally that two girls or two guys ended up soulmates, it was still unusual enough to attract comment. As though Rizzo didn’t have enough people talking trash about her without _that_ piece of information feeding the gossip-mongers. 

“Aren’t you – aren’t you pleased?” the new girl asked, her smile fading as she finally perceived that Rizzo was anything but happy about this.

“Not on your life,” Rizzo told her. “I was perfectly happy without a soulmate cramping my style.”

Rizzo’s soulmate looked absolutely crushed. Rizzo told herself that she wasn’t being petty; the sooner her soulmate understood her place in Rizzo’s life, the better. 

Frenchy sent Rizzo a _look_ , and put an arm around the new girl.

“Don’t mind Rizzo, Sandy,” Frenchy said. “That’s just her way.”

“What? Telling it like it is?” Rizzo asked.

Frenchy sent Rizzo another look, and Rizzo subsided. It wasn’t often that Frenchy stood up to her, but when she did, it was usually because Rizzo was being inexcusably unkind. Rizzo was grudgingly aware of this, and when Frenchy sent her one of those looks, she usually backed off.

So Rizzo didn’t object when Frenchy invited Sandy to sit down at their table, even though she wanted to. Instead Rizzo put on an air of studied disinterest even as she listened intently to the conversation going on around her.

“So, Sandy,” said Jan. “What brings you to Rydell?”

“Oh, well, my father was offered a permanent posting here after the work he did over the summer, so... here I am.”

Sandy smiled brightly. Rizzo rolled her eyes.

“Marty, are those new glasses?” Frenchy asked.

“Yeah, I got them just for school. Don’t you think they make me look smarter?” Marty struck a pose that showed off her new spectacles.

“Well sure, until you open your mouth,” said Rizzo, who couldn’t stand pretentiousness of any kind.

“How’d you like a fruit cocktail down your bra?” Marty asked, in a dangerously pleasant voice.

Jan diffused the situation by demanding the fruit cocktail. Things might have settled down, except that then Patty Simcox made an appearance.

Rizzo had nothing but contempt for Patty. The other girl was pretentious, priggish, and judgemental: everything that Rizzo most despised. Patty was one of those girls who pretended to be kind to your face and then talked about you behind your back, digging the knife in when you weren’t there to see it. Rizzo knew that she herself wasn’t a kind person – she was too sharp and unrefined around the edges for that. But at least no one could accuse her of stabbing anyone in the back. Rizzo was always up-front about how she felt about people.

Patty nattered on about _guess who’s been nominated for vice-president?_ for a little while, while Rizzo nodded, responding with a mocking enthusiasm that had the other Pink Ladies smirking. As usual, the mockery went straight over Patty’s head: the idea that someone might not consider her a role model to live up to but instead a figure to be made fun of, never entered her mind.

But then Patty noticed that there was a new addition to the Pink Ladies’ table, and her nattering about Student Council nominations cut off. Instead, she narrowed in on Sandy.

“Oh, you must think I’m the rudest and the crudest for not introducing myself to your friend! Hi! I’m Patty Simcox!”

Patty went to sit on the nearest chair, and yelped as she discovered the apple that Jan had placed on the seat. Rizzo and the others laughed, but Sandy didn’t. She just sat there with a confused frown, clearly trying to understand the dynamics of the group.

“Anyway,” said Patty to Sandy, “I hope you’ll be at cheerleader tryouts, hmm? We’ll have so much fun and get to be lifelong friends!”

Instead of appearing nauseated by this statement, the way any reasonable person would have, Rizzo’s soulmate only nodded politely as though she hoped that yes, she and Patty _would_ become lifelong friends. Jan mimed sticking a finger down her throat and barfing, and the other Pink Ladies snickered and grinned. Normally Rizzo would have been grinning along with them, but she was too busy feeling horrified by her soulmate’s reaction to Patty’s words.

“Have you ever cheered before?” Patty added, with an air of condescending kindness that would have had Rizzo up in arms if it had been aimed at her.

But Sandy only said, “A little, back home. I might remember a few routines,” in such an earnest tone of voice that Rizzo’s sense of horror grew.

This? _This_ was her soulmate? Someone who took Patty Simcox at face value, totally missed the other girl’s condescension, and just to top it all off, was interested in _cheerleading?_

“So girls, what do you think of Sandy?” Frenchy asked in an undertone, while Patty continued to speak patronisingly to Rizzo’s soulmate.

“If she was any more wholesome she’d be infectious,” Rizzo muttered, and ignored Frenchy’s reproving shove.

“That’s a fine way to talk about your soulmate,” said Marty.

“Your soulmate isn’t a little goody-two-shoes,” said Rizzo. 

“I don’t have a soulmate.” Jan’s matter-of-fact voice interrupted the conversation. “I always wished I did, though.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Rizzo snapped, which wasn’t entirely true. She’d wondered what it would be like, sometimes, to find someone who could match her in wit and sass. She didn’t put much stock in the rest of the nonsense about soulmates – all those ridiculous stories about how soulmates would love and cherish each other until the end of time. Rizzo’s parents were a soulmate couple, and there had never been much loving and cherishing going on between them. Oh, they were connected, alright: they didn’t seem to feel complete without their endless sniping at each other. Growing up, Rizzo had felt like a live grenade might be less dangerous than some of the conversations that went on between her parents. But loving and cherishing? There was none of that between them.

So Rizzo hadn’t been looking for that, in a soulmate. But she _had_ hoped for someone who could keep up with her – and instead, all she’d gotten was the polite, well-behaved, sickeningly _nice_ girl in the frilled blouse and pastel skirt. Rizzo couldn’t imagine someone more different from herself.

Patty went on her way, and Sandy rejoined the Pink Ladies, innocently oblivious to the fact that they’d just been talking about her.

“So Sandy, what did you do this summer?” Jan asked.

“Oh, I spent it at the beach. I met a boy there. He was nice. But of course, we knew it couldn’t go anywhere. I was waiting for my soulmate,” Sandy added, sending a smile towards Rizzo.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Rizzo muttered. In a louder voice she said, “You mean you’ve never even had so much as a summer fling? Really?”

Sandy stared at her, and for a moment Rizzo wondered what was going on in her mind.

“Why would I want to?” Sandy asked, and Rizzo decided that she didn’t _want_ to know what was going on in her soulmate’s head, not if it was the sort of place which produced statements like that.

“You’ve never met someone cute who got your motor running?” Marty asked.

“My... what?” Sandy asked, looking puzzled.

“You know, someone who got you hot under the collar,” said Rizzo.

“Oh.” Sandy looked suddenly uncertain. “My guardian told me that those kinds of feelings are for your soulmate only.” 

“And you believed them?” Rizzo demanded. “Christ.”

Sandy looked a little startled at the curse word, but Rizzo was _done_.

“Listen,” she said to her soulmate, smiling a pleasant smile that was entirely feigned. “I’m sure you’re... a _perfectly nice_ girl... but I’m not exactly looking for a soulmate, you know? I’m happy just being a lonely, unfulfilled half of a soul,” and Rizzo heard Jan giggle, “with zero responsibilities or accountability to anyone else. So thanks, but no thanks.”

Rizzo’s soulmate was looking crushed again.

“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t want to impose myself on you–”

“Good,” said Rizzo loudly, and devoted herself to eating her lunch. She pretended that she couldn’t see the way that the other Pink Ladies were looking at her: a mixture of _really?_ and _that was a little harsh, don’t you think?_ which set Rizzo’s nerves on edge.

But Rizzo ignored them, even Frenchy, and assumed that would be the end of it.

Right up until the moment Sandy turned up at Frenchy’s sleepover that evening, and Frenchy welcomed her in with a smile, and Frenchy had clearly _planned this_. Judging by the way Jan and Marty didn’t bat an eye, she hadn’t done it alone.

Rizzo sent Frenchy an accusing stare as soon as Sandy’s back was turned. Frenchy sent her back a look which said that she wasn’t going to be intimidated into letting the whole soulmate issue just go away. 

Rizzo glared.

Her opinion of Sandy wasn’t raised any higher by the discovery that – of _course_ – Sandy didn’t drink or smoke, nor by the way in which Sandy yelped when Frenchy unexpectedly pierced her ear. But when Frenchy went in to pierce the other ear...

“ _Don’t_ ,” said Sandy, her voice full of unexpected steel as she caught Frenchy’s wrist in a firm grip, and didn’t let go. 

“Oh, well, of course, not if you don’t want me to,” Frenchy stammered, trying and failing to remove her wrist from Sandy’s grasp.

Sandy smiled, as nice as pie again, and let go of Frenchy’s wrist. Frenchy snatched her arm back and peered closely at her own wrist, like she was afraid Sandy might have done some damage or something. Rizzo wondered how strong Sandy’s grip was, and glanced at the other girl.

But Sandy was looking worried.

“Is my ear bleeding very much?” Sandy asked Jan, her voice anxious and uncertain, and Rizzo wondered if that moment of steel had been an illusion. But Frenchy was massaging her wrist, an expression of bewilderment on her face, and Rizzo decided that the moment hadn’t just been her imagination. 

So maybe her soulmate could be assertive when it came down to it, and wasn’t as meek as she’d seemed to be at their first meeting. That didn’t change the fact that she was still a goody-goody.

“It’s bleeding like a stuck pig,” Jan said cheerfully, answering Sandy’s question. Sandy looked aghast.

“Here, Sandy, come into the bathroom, my parents will kill me if I get blood all over the carpet.” Frenchy pulled Sandy to her feet.

“Hey, don’t worry Sandy, if she screws up she can always fix your hair so your ears don’t show,” said Rizzo, pretending to reassure her.

Frenchy sent Rizzo yet another look, and ushered Sandy into the bathroom.

“Would one of you get me some ice to numb her earlobes?” Frenchy asked, her tone of voice making it clear that she wasn’t messing around.

“Just run some cold water and stick her ear under the faucet,” Marty recommended, filing her nails.

Frenchy obviously hadn’t thought of that.

“Oh,” she said, and disappeared into the bathroom behind Sandy, the door closing behind her.

While Frenchy and Sandy were in the bathroom, Jan mentioned that the T-Birds had suggested that they might drop around later that night.

Marty demanded to know how the T-Birds knew they were having a sleepover even as look of suspicion crossed her face as she realised the most likely answer.

“Did you tell them we’re having a sleepover, Riz?” Her voice was full of accusation.

“Well, since you all seem determined to push me together with my soulmate, I wanted to make sure I had other options,” said Rizzo.

“She’s not _that_ bad,” said Jan, her voice considering. “I mean, she could be worse.”

“Well, there’s a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one.”

Just then Frenchy emerged from the bathroom.

“Sandy isn’t feeling very well,” Frenchy said, sounding concerned. “I’ve got her running her ear under the faucet until it stops bleeding.”

Rizzo sat down at Frenchy’s dressing table and put on one of Frenchy’s blonde wigs.

“Miss Goody-Two-Shoes makes me want to barf,” Rizzo said aloud. She suddenly turned to the others with a wicked smile, still wearing the blonde wig. “ _Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee...”_ she sang, and the other girls started to laugh.

Rizzo made the song up on the spot, the lyrics making fun of Sandy’s virginal nature and painting a picture of a prudish girl who wanted nothing to do with sex or fooling around, and prided herself on it.

“ _Don’t be a fool, now you’re starting to drool... be cool, I’m Sandra Dee_ ,” Rizzo sang, and didn’t hear the bathroom door open behind her. 

The first she knew of Sandy’s return was a reproachful voice saying, “You making fun of me, Riz?”

Just for a second, Rizzo froze – Rizzo hadn’t actually _meant_ for Sandy to witness her impression of her. 

She pulled off the wig and straightened her hair, trying to hide her sudden discomfort, and told herself that it was Sandy’s own fault for being all pure and wholesome. Sandy should have known better than to try and be part of a girl gang like the Pink Ladies. She just didn’t _fit_. She shouldn’t have expected to just slot into the group, simply because she was Rizzo’s soulmate.

“Some people are so touchy,” Rizzo said loudly, and did her best not to look ashamed of herself, even as the other girls looked shamefaced at being caught out. Rizzo pretended not to feel the pang of guilty conscience that made itself known at the hurt look on Sandy’s face.

There was a long, awkward silence. Rizzo refused to apologise. Sandy just stood there and looked out of place.

The silence was broken by the sound of a car horn honking in the street below, and Rizzo seized the chance to escape the awkwardness. She hurried over to the window, and grinned down at the T-Birds in the car below.

Time to have some fun, she thought, and to leave Miss Goody-Two-Shoes behind.

And if a little part of her was disappointed in her own actions... well, Rizzo would deny it until her dying day. She had better things to do than feel disappointed at herself.

* * *

The next day at school, Sandy was pale and quiet. 

There were large dark circles under her eyes, as though she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Rizzo felt another twinge of conscience, and told herself fiercely that she wasn’t responsible for whether her soulmate got a good night’s sleep or not.

Sandy didn’t join the Pink Ladies for lunch. As it turned out, this wasn’t a good thing after all. There was a pointed silence from Rizzo’s friends, until finally one of them broke it.

“So, did you have fun going off with Kenickie in front of your soulmate?” Marty asked, and Rizzo threw up her hands.

“I don’t owe her anything, okay? If she has expectations, that’s on everyone else, not me,” Rizzo snapped. “I never pretended I was offering her anything.”

“I know, it’s just...” said Frenchy. “She’s probably spent her whole life waiting to meet you, and... well...”

“You were pretty mean,” Jan finished, taking a bite of a twinkie and talking with her mouth full.

“Girls, you know me,” said Rizzo. “When did I ever believe in all that stupid soulmate crap? I mean come on, you’ve met my parents.”

The other Pink Ladies pulled various faces.

“Not everyone is like your parents,” said Frenchy. “Rizzo–”

“Can it,” said Rizzo. “I don’t want to hear any more about it, alright? Be friends with her if you want. But I don’t want any part of it. The last thing I need is little Miss Perfect sitting around judging me just for existing.”

Her glare was dark enough that the others let the topic drop.

The next day, Frenchy dragged Sandy along to sit with the Pink Ladies during lunch again, and after school when they went to the diner. The other girls treated her like she was one of them, even though she clearly wasn’t.

Rizzo tried to put a finger on why it bothered her so much, and couldn’t. 

Maybe that was why, when Sandy went to cheerleading practice and Frenchy dragged them all along to watch it, Rizzo didn’t put up as much of a fight as she might have.

She’d seen Sandy at tryouts, of course: it had been an absolute joy to see Sandy knock the wind out of Patty’s sails with a cheerleading routine that looked impressive even to Rizzo. Patty must have been fuming on the inside, Rizzo thought. Sandy had completely upstaged her without even meaning to.

“She’s really good at that sort of thing,” Marty commented, as they watched Sandy flip and jump and twirl and somersault alongside the other cheerleaders.

“Well,” said Rizzo, and grinned, even as she cast an appreciative eye over the lithe figure Sandy cut in her cheerleading uniform. “If she’s not getting any, she has to channel all of that energy and frustration into _something_.”

The others laughed. Sandy glanced up at the bleachers then, and gave the gang a quick wave with a pom-pom. She really was too goody-goody for words, Rizzo thought, but the thought was more sad than contemptuous.

She continued to watch as Sandy practiced the cheerleading squad’s routines. Her movements were smooth and easy, and she made the routine look effortless, even as the other girls stumbled and tripped their way through it. Whatever else might be said against her, Rizzo couldn’t deny that Sandy had phenomenally good coordination... Nor the fact that she looked good in her uniform.

“You know, it’s a pity,” Rizzo murmured, feeling something like regret. 

“What is, Riz?” 

“That she’s too pure to be pink.”

“Give it time,” said Frenchy. “We’ll make a Pink Lady of her yet.”

Rizzo scoffed.

“Yeah, and Doody’s going to propose marriage to you any day now.” 

Frenchy’s face went pink, and she said no more.

The gang watched in silence as the cheerleaders finished practice, and Sandy came bounding up the steps of the bleachers to meet them. As the others congratulated Sandy on her skill at cheerleading, Rizzo said nothing.

But she didn’t say anything insulting, either.

* * *

As the next couple of months went by, Rizzo got used to having Sandy around – and even, begrudgingly, began to like her. Sandy was still all _sugar and spice and everything nice_ , but... Sandy didn’t think she was any better than the rest of them for being that way, unlike most of the ‘good girls’ of Rydell High, and was unwavering in her support of the Pink Ladies when any of them needed it.

So Rizzo cut back on the smart remarks a little – not completely, because she wasn’t a saint or anything – and stopped trying to make the other girl feel unwelcome in the group.

But she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in being anyone’s soulmate, least of all Sandy’s. That was a line she wasn’t going to cross.

Rizzo wasn’t going to lie to herself: she’d had hopes and expectations of her soulmate, and meeting Sandy had dashed all of them. It was clear that Rizzo wasn’t going to get what she wanted in a soulmate; well, then, she’d be better off without one altogether. So Rizzo wrote off the whole soulmates business as yet another disappointment, and got on with her life.

Getting on with her life, as it happened, included make-outs and occasionally more than that with Kenickie. He was good-looking, and had a car, and knew how to show a girl a good time; and Rizzo told herself that she didn’t want any more than that.

Right up until the moment she had a yelling match with Kenickie and got out of his car, and he drove off leaving her stranded in the middle of nowhere, all on her own in the darkness.

Any other girl might have sat down and cried, or tried to catch a ride from one of the other couples that had driven to the area to get friendly with one another. But Rizzo had far too much pride to sit down and cry, while the thought of interrupting a couple of strangers in the middle of getting cozy to explain that her own squeeze had gone and abandoned her... it wasn’t even to be thought of.

So Rizzo pulled her jacket more closely around herself, and began the long, dark walk home. It was a good hour’s walk from here back to her house – the popular fooling-around spot was a little way out of town, away from the condemnatory presence of parents, and the police who patrolled the streets closer to the town.

It was a long, long walk. Rizzo’s feet ached in her fancy heels – which were probably ruined by now, after trudging along the dirty road – and there was a cool breeze which cut through Rizzo’s jacket like it wasn’t even there.

But Rizzo continued on her way, too proud and stubborn to do anything else. It took her half an hour just to reach the edge of town, where the cemetery was.

As Rizzo drew level with its gates, a figure detached itself and stepped out into the light. It was a young man, a few years older than Rizzo was, in a cheap suit and with the kind of haircut only a complete square would choose to wear. There was dirt on his suit.

The way the guy was leering at Rizzo as she drew near was anything but square.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” said the guy, who looked awfully pale in the moonlight.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” said Rizzo, well-aware of the fact that there was no one around for miles. Whatever happened here, she was on her own. Rizzo wasn’t a fearful person, but fear began creeping in around the edges of her mind all the same. Rizzo told herself to get a grip, and kept a watchful gaze on the guy ahead of her.

“That’s too bad,” said the guy, smiling – and then his face _changed_.

Rizzo almost screamed at the monstrous visage on display, but retained just enough self-control to do no more than gasp.

“What the _hell_ are you?” she demanded, her heart thudding in her chest and panic clawing its way up her throat.

The monster only smiled, and took a step forward.

The next second a metal blade jutted out from its chest, and it burst into a cloud of dust. As the dust settled, Rizzo saw that Sandy Young was standing just behind the spot where the monster had stood. There was a sword in her hand, giving off a faint glow that was a little brighter than the moonlight shining down from above them.

Rizzo gaped, completely beyond words. Sheer astonishment kept her silent.

“It _would_ be you,” said Sandy, and there was none of the usual sweetness in her voice. “What on earth are you doing out this late? And by the graveyard.”

“I - me and Kenickie had a fight, and he left me to walk home,” said Rizzo, too shaken to be anything but honest.

Sandy sighed, loud and drawn-out.

“It figures. Here’s a tip: next time you get stranded, don’t walk past the graveyard. It currently has a vampire infestation.” Sandy turned away from Rizzo, her gaze scanning the cemetery behind her.

“A – what? Did you say _vampire?_ ” Part of Rizzo thought that the idea of vampires being real was ridiculous... but then she thought of the hideously inhuman face she’d seen the guy wearing, and believed Sandy completely.

“Vampire, as in Dracula. Try and keep up.” Sandy’s voice was curt. She didn’t bother to look at Rizzo.

“Well excuse me, not all of us are familiar with the supernatural. Whatever’s bugging you, there’s no need to take it out on me,” said Rizzo, beginning to recover from her shock.

Sandy spun to face Rizzo, the sword still clenched in her fist, her eyes full of fire. Rizzo took an involuntary step back.

Sandy stayed where she was.

“All my life I’ve been told that one day I’d meet my soulmate, and I’d find someone who’d _understand_ me. Who’d understand _this_. Who’d _support_ me,” said Sandy, twirling the sword. “Instead, I got _you_.”

Rizzo stared open-mouthed, caught off-balance by the bitterness in Sandy’s voice. It had never occurred to her that while she was finding her soulmate lacking, Sandy might have been feeling exactly the same way about her. It left Rizzo feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Rude, casually cruel, and caring for no one but yourself,” Sandy went on. A dark shape loomed up out of the darkness and before Rizzo could shout a warning, Sandy pivoted and thrust the sword through its mid-section. The figure vanished in a cloud of dust.

“I’m not casually cruel,” Rizzo protested, still feeling as though the world had gone askew in some fundamental way. 

Sandy only sent her a pointed look.

“ _Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee_ ,” she sang in a lovely soprano, and Rizzo winced.

“Okay, so maybe not my finest moment–”

“Ever since I got here, you’ve been making it clear that whatever you wanted in a soulmate, I’m not it,” said Sandy. “You want to tell me you’re not casually cruel? Try telling someone else.”

Rizzo winced again.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said, beginning to understand how badly she’d messed up. “You happy now? I don’t go apologising to just anybody.”

“I feel honoured,” said Sandy, and Rizzo might have been pleased to finally get a sarcastic response out of her soulmate, if it weren’t for the fact that the sarcasm was aimed squarely at her.

“Nice use of sarcasm,” said Rizzo. “Why weren’t you like this before?”

“Because I was trying to _fit in_ ,” said Sandy. “You think people _like_ girls like me? Self-sufficient, supernaturally-strong girls who have been raised to kill the creatures of the night? People like demure, modest girls, girls who want to step out with boys and get married and live happy little lives full of domesticity. They don’t want girls who can duel and shoot and bench-press a car. I’m a girl who hunts monsters. People don’t want girls like me.”

Rizzo took a deep breath, and realised the truth of what she was about to say in the moment before she said it.

“I do.” 

Rizzo didn’t think she’d ever been so honest in her life.

It was terrifying.

Sandy looked at Rizzo, and Sandy looked as vulnerable as Rizzo felt.

“You’re not serious.”

“But I am,” said Rizzo. 

She took a step forward. Sandy didn’t move. Rizzo took another. 

“I... might have been a bit of a jerk,” she began, and Sandy gave a snort of derision, but still didn’t move away as Rizzo stepped towards her. “But honey... trust me, you’ve got a lot to offer a girl. I just wish I’d seen it earlier.”

Sandy hesitated.

“I’ll walk you home,” she said abruptly. “It’s not safe to walk around alone at this time of night.”

Normally Rizzo would have insisted that she was capable of looking after herself, but normally she hadn’t just narrowly escaped death at the hands of a vampire.

“Sounds good to me,” she said, rather than arguing.

“Which way do we go?” Sandy asked. Rizzo pointed.

“That way. I’m afraid it’s a bit of a walk from here, though.”

“It’sfine,” said Sandy shortly. “I’d rather you weren’t eaten by vampires, and the chances of that are rather high until I find their nest.”

Rizzo wasn’t sure how to respond.

“That’s nice of you.”

“Well, you _are_ my soulmate.” Sandy’s gaze flickered to Rizzo’s face for a moment, before returning to their surroundings, alert and vigilant.

“So what was that about being supernaturally strong, earlier?” Rizzo asked after a few minutes, as they walked. 

Sandy glanced at her.

“I’m a Vampire Slayer,” she said, and Rizzo could hear the capital letters. “One girl in all the world at any given time, destined to fight the forces of darkness. I’m stronger than most humans, and I have faster reflexes, and... I get these dreams, sometimes. Premonitions.”

From the look on Sandy’s face, they weren’t pleasant dreams.

“My parents were killed in an accident when I was fourteen, and the Watcher’s Council took me in.”

“What the hell is the Watcher’s Council?”

“They’re supposed to train and guide the Slayer, but in reality, it’s more like they find the targets and send the Slayer out to find them until the Slayer dies, and the next Slayer inherits the power.”

“ _Dies?_ ” Rizzo repeated. Sandy glanced sideways at her.

“You think being the one girl in all the world destined to fight monsters is _easy?_ ”

“I guess not,” said Rizzo, thinking about it. “But don’t you have... other people to help you? Soldiers, or something?”

“Nope. Just my Watcher,” said Sandy. “He’s the member of the Council who’s supposed to train me and tell me what monsters to go after. I’m lucky that my Watcher’s a good man, who cares as much about keeping me alive as he does defeating the forces of evil. It was his idea for me to attend high school. Most Slayers don’t. They only get the training that the Council provides for them.”

“Sounds rough,” Rizzo commented, her head whirling with everything she’d just learned. “How are you supposed to make friends?”

“I’m not,” said Sandy. “But like I said, my Watcher actually cares about me, so he hasn’t mentioned to his superiors that I’ve actually made friends here. If they knew, they’d dismiss my Watcher in an instant, and send out someone who’s more likely to follow the rules and keep me away from any ‘distractions’ from my duties.” Sandy was sounding bitter again, and Rizzo couldn’t blame her one bit.

“That’s barbaric,” Rizzo protested. A new thought occurred to her. “What’s this Council’s opinion on soulmates?”

Sandy shrugged.

“They’ve worked out that a Slayer is likely to live longer and fight more effectively if they have contact with their soulmate, so they don’t forbid it. Besides, most of them are traditionalists who really believe that soulmates are the ‘missing half’ of a person’s soul. Most of them would be genuinely horrified at the idea of separating soulmates, I think.”

Rizzo wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, she was glad no one was likely to try and separate her from Sandy. On the other, she really didn’t believe all the trash people talked about soulmates. She was a whole person all on her own, thanks, and didn’t need a soulmate to ‘fulfil’ her.

All the same, she was beginning to think that life might actually be better with Sandy in it, than without, now that she’d met the real Sandy.

“So all that _no drinking, no smoking, nice as pie_ stuff, was that an act?” Rizzo asked.

“Oh, no.” Sandy shook her head. “That’s real. That’s as much who I am as _this_ is.” At the word ‘this’ she hefted the sword in her hand in illustration.

Rizzo was silent for a moment, thinking that over.

“Well, I guess I can handle you being Miss Sugar and Spice, if it comes with all the other things,” Rizzo said at last.

Sandy glanced at Rizzo, and there was hope in her expression.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Rizzo gave her a smile. “We’ve got to get you one of the Pink Ladies jackets made up, though. You’ve been one of us for a while. It’s about time we made it official.”

“I’m still going to be polite to others, and dress the way I do, and I’m not going to stop being a cheerleader,” Sandy said, as though she was determined to lay it all out before she agreed to anything.

Rizzo found that endearing.

“I’m not asking you to. Besides,” and she gave Sandy a saucy grin, “the whole cheerleader thing kind of gets my motor running, you know what I mean.”

Sandy stopped walking, and stared at Rizzo with wide-eyes.

“Oh,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Okay.”

They continued walking for a little while in silence, as Rizzo thought over everything that had been said.

“My place is just up this way,” Rizzo said finally, as they approached her street.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” said Sandy. “You can never be too careful.”

“That’s a good excuse,” said Rizzo with a grin. Sandy smiled back, and Rizzo thought that maybe, they’d finally reached an understanding.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” said Sandy, as they came to a stop in front of Rizzo’s front door.

“Sure,” said Rizzo, and grinned again. “But first–” And she leaned in, curious to see what Sandy would do.

Much to Rizzo’s pleasure, Sandy was surprised but didn’t pull away. It was a sweeter, less hot and heavy kiss than Rizzo was used to, and Sandy clearly didn’t know what to do with the hand that wasn’t holding a sword, but Rizzo thought that she could happily get used to this.

When they separated, Sandy had turned a light pink, and her pupils were huge in the moonlight.

“See you tomorrow,” said Rizzo, feeling very pleased with herself.

Sandy gave a flustered wave with her free hand, and turned to head back down the street, a bounce in her step that hadn’t been there before.

Rizzo grinned to herself, and pulling her keys out of her pocket, quietly let herself in through the front door.

Life looked like it was about to get a whole lot more interesting.


End file.
